If there’s one constant in every mom’s life, it’s this: Our coffee gets cold before we even have a chance to drink it. (Or in my case, tea, but same thing.)

Why? Motherhood, of course. Before we’re able to take more than two sips of our wonderfully caffeinated, wonderfully warm, wonderfully delicious beverage, our kids are calling for us. And that’s in the best possible scenario. In the worst, they’re screaming for us…or they’ve had a poopsplosion…or they’re hitting their siblings…or they’re literally swinging from a chandelier.

Yeah, that’s why…not that I needed to tell you that. Heck, you might even be reading this post, wondering where the hell your mug went, only to find it lukewarm or icy (and not in a good way). You might stick it in the microwave to heat it back up, but it never tastes as good, so then you have to make a new cup…which you’ll also soon accidentally abandon.

Well, no more. It’s not that I’m taking a stand, because a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do when it comes to her tiny terrors. Instead, I’m finding a solution for you, for me, for all of us: the Yeti Rambler, a 20-ounce stainless steel insulated tumbler.

I don’t often go gaga over products products on Momsanity, but sometimes I can’t help myself. Cases in point:

And now my newly beloved Yeti. This isn’t a sponsored post, by the way. I’m just in love.

It keeps hot beverages hot—and cold beverages cold—and it does it for HOURS. Yes, my tea is now hot for HOURS. (And yes, all caps were necessary twice.) It also has a sliding magnetic lid that keeps liquids from spilling all over you, and you won’t burn your hand when you pick it up either. Through some sort of fancy science or possibly sorcery, the insulation keeps the outside of the cup completely temperate. Yep, I’m going with sorcery.

I have to give credit where credit is due. My husband made this miraculous discovery after he’d gotten one for his iced coffee, and then he bought one for me. (Thanks, honey!)

We were actually already familiar with Yeti because they also make these amazing coolers that keep ice as actual ice for days. Nope, that’s not a typo—days. I’d looked into the coolers for a segment I’d been working on about great products for sports moms, and around the same time, my husband randomly won one at a golf tournament. (Possibly the only time I didn’t complain about golf.) They’re pretty pricey, but they’re totally worth it if you’re tailgating, taking a road trip, camping, hanging out at the beach, schlepping the kids to activities all weekend, or whatever else.

I was completely shocked that this tumbler wasn’t pricey at all—just $30 for something you’ll use every day, multiple times a day, and is environmentally friendly, to boot. Anyway, I’m not sure why I was skeptical at first, given Yeti’s track record, but that’s just me, I guess. Let’s just say that I was more than happily surprised, and I am now a complete Yeti devotee.

]]>http://momsanity.com/can-a-coffee-cup-change-your-life-yes/feed/0They’re Not Ready Until They’re Readyhttp://momsanity.com/theyre-not-ready-until-theyre-ready/
http://momsanity.com/theyre-not-ready-until-theyre-ready/#respondSun, 26 Aug 2018 15:22:17 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2106It sounds like something you’d get in a fortune cookie, but it’s my lesson of the week: They’re not ready until they’re ready. I guess this could hold true for all of us at any time—like when we finally stopped dating jerks and opened ourselves to finding a good guy or when we truly commit [...]

It sounds like something you’d get in a fortune cookie, but it’s my lesson of the week: They’re not ready until they’re ready.

I guess this could hold true for all of us at any time—like when we finally stopped dating jerks and opened ourselves to finding a good guy or when we truly commit to losing those last five pounds—but in this case, I’m talking about our kids. We can huff and puff and try our hardest to get them to go along with whatever we’re trying to teach them, but if they’re not ready, it just ain’t happening.

I learned this lesson (again) the other day when my daughter finally decided it was time to use the potty.

Sidenote: I’m slightly worried to hit “publish” on this post since I don’t want to jinx myself, but Mercury is out of retrograde and I’d like to stop being so superstitious, so what the hell.

Anyway…people, she finally went on the potty—twice! And I had nothing to do with it! Well, I may have had a little to do with it since I’ve been laying the groundwork for ages, but she only did it when she was good and ready and the whole potty thing just clicked.

A few weeks ago, I had been determined to get her potty-trained. I didn’t want to push, but I did want to nudge in the right direction. After all, she had gone on the potty a while back (and then changed her mind about the whole thing), and she had been showing signs of readiness—talking about it, reading books, picking out her own Vampirina and Paw Patrol undies. Plus, I was ready, not just in terms of getting my last baby out of diapers (which, truth be told, actually makes me a little sad), but in terms of having a good chunk of time to devote to it right before she started preschool.

So…we tried.

And she peed on the floor.

We tried again.

And she pooped in her pretty undies and didn’t care.

We tried again.

And she peed on the couch.

We kept on trying over the course of a day and a half, and not only was she no longer interested in this whole potty-training thing—she was also starting to dig her heels in and get upset that she wasn’t getting the potty prizes we had bought to celebrate each little pee and poo.

So I stopped. I still encouraged her here and there to use the potty, and she usually said no. And then all of the sudden, a few days later, she asked me to use the potty, and she did it not once but twice! We were all jumping and shrieking and celebrating, and it was wonderful.

And it was because she was ready.

I know this rationally, but when you’re trying to meet a deadline—either a real or imagined one—you can kind of brush it aside. I was also comparing her to her brother, who was incredibly easy to potty train, and that wasn’t fair either. I’m glad that I didn’t push it in the end and let her have the big epiphany in her own time. That’s generally the best, easiest way to do these things, after all.

I’ve learned the same thing with my son. When he was learning to read last year, I’d sit patiently with him and go over word families and sight words and all that jazz. I’d get a little concerned when he’d learn a word and then not remember it 15 seconds later. Was there an issue? Should I be doing something differently?

The answer to both of those questions was: no. One day, it just clicked…and he was not only ready but off to the races. Eight months later, he’s a superstar reader, and he loves it. But before that moment, he just wasn’t ready.

We’re living in this ridiculously accelerated world, and we feel this insane pressure to doing everything early with our kids.

I’m sure we all have parenting war stories of trying to force that proverbial square peg into something that just doesn’t match up. It’s enough to drive us crazy—and it’s actually crazy. Here’s the thing we need to remember: Our kids are superstars, but they need the time to do things on their own. We need to relax and just let them be, no matter how hard it is. Nine times out of ten, they will get there eventually—and not only eventually but in a really reasonable, normal amount of time.

It can become a perfect storm of pressure, failure and frustration. And it certainly isn’t doing us or our kids any favors.

So, I’m trying to sit back and remember that it will all be OK and that it will all get done in the time it’s supposed to get done—potty training and all.

Unfortunately, from the time I started writing this post till the time I finally got around to finishing it a few days later, my toddler decided that the potty just wasn’t for her right now. (Again.) Maybe I did jinx it by writing this piece, and then again, maybe it’s just an opportunity for the Universe to remind me to take my own advice: She’s not going to be ready until she’s ready.

Still, there’s nothing wrong with hoping—in a very Zen way—that the big day is soon!

]]>http://momsanity.com/theyre-not-ready-until-theyre-ready/feed/0Toddlers: Why Being Naughty Isn’t Naughty at Allhttp://momsanity.com/toddlers-why-being-naughty-isnt-naughty-at-all/
http://momsanity.com/toddlers-why-being-naughty-isnt-naughty-at-all/#respondMon, 09 Jul 2018 06:19:46 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2092OK, let me clarify that: It totally is naughty in the moment and it can be so freaking hard and frustrating and potentially embarrassing…but it might not be happening for the reason you think. The thing is, kids are rarely naughty for the sake of being naughty. They’re learning. Sometimes they’re pushing boundaries to find out where [...]

OK, let me clarify that: It totally is naughty in the moment and it can be so freaking hard and frustrating and potentially embarrassing…but it might not be happening for the reason you think.

The thing is, kids are rarely naughty for the sake of being naughty. They’re learning.

Sometimes they’re pushing boundaries to find out where the line is (and what your breaking point is). Sometimes they genuinely don’t know they’re acting God-awful. Sometimes they just think the naughty thing is hysterically funny, and let’s face it—impulse control is not their strong point. And sometimes they’re having big feelings but we don’t realize it because all we can think is: OMG, make the horrible behavior stop!

Kiddie emotions are tough because children don’t think like us. How can they? They don’t have the same life experiences, they haven’t made the mistakes that we’ve made and learned from, and the rules that rule their little world often seem to change at the drop of a hat.

Since she’s the baby of the family, it’s easy to think of her as little. But she’s not. First of all, she’s a girl, and forgive me for stereotyping here, but girls really are on a whole different maturity track than boys of the same age. This kid is still 2, but she desperately craves independence and she can eye-roll with the best of them. She also knows and absorbs a lot more than I sometimes give her credit for. Plus, I’m still saying she’s 2, but she’s going to turn 3 in less than a month, which puts her right on the cusp of those REALLY BIG emotions.

I had to take a deep breath and remember that she wasn’t just being naughty. Well, she was, but not without a good reason.

Anyway, summer is finally here, and I’ve been so excited to do more with both of the kids together, now that my oldest is on break. Time to make those delicious summer memories as a family! (Spoiler alert: It’s not going quite as I’d hoped.) During the school year, my daughter and I were together all day long while my son was at school, and as a result, we got to explore our new-ish area together. We’d done things that I thought he’d really enjoy, and I wanted to include him in those experiences.

First up: Making a return trip to Croton Gorge Park, which is this gorgeous dam on the Hudson River about 30 minutes from where we live. My daughter and I had hiked the two-mile trail about a month ago, and at the time, we talked about bringing her brother to join us the next time around. Before that happened, the two of us hiked elsewhere. We’d walk hand-in-hand up and down the trails, we’d talk, and she was a perfect angel. She even complained that our next mile-long hike wasn’t long enough, so it’s safe to say that she was enjoying these little adventures.

So…I decided to make good on that promise to go back with her big brother. It was a gorgeous day, and things started out great. My son was excited to see the waterfall, and my daughter was thrilled to be chasing after her big brother. They were even holding hands as they started exploring together. (Look at the adorable photographic evidence below!) But things went downhill, so to speak, as soon as we started up the trail.

We got about a quarter mile in when my daughter suddenly didn’t want to walk anymore. She wanted me to carry her. What? We had a mile and three quarters left to go and she’s 30 pounds! There was no way I was schlepping this kid up the damn trail! But that’s exactly what I did until my back started aching. When I put her down, she lingered behind and refused to walk. Let’s just say I got a good workout that day.

When I was complaining about the episode to my mother later that day, she shed a little light on the episode: “I think she was upset because this is something you do just with her, and she didn’t like that it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.”

But she loved her brother, and she loved that he was there at first—and really loved playing American Ninja Warrior with him when they got down to the playground at the end.

But she’s 2. Emotions are big and weird and don’t always make sense.

I talked about it with her that night, and sure enough, that was the issue.

Suddenly, all of these “special” things that my toddler had thought of as hers were being taken away, being shared without her permission. And we all know how toddlers generally feel about sharing.

You’d think I would have learned from this, but nope, I found myself in the same situation a week later at the grocery store. Again, this was not something I expected. Despite the fact that she occasionally can’t contain her excitement to see the lobsters and has to run over to see them immediately, she’s generally an excellent little helper on our weekly shopping excursions, especially lately.

Not the other day. As soon as the three of us walked into the store, my little angel turned into a hell beast. She wouldn’t get in the cart, and she wouldn’t walk beside me. Instead, she seemed like a toddler possessed, running not only away from me but straight for the sliding glass doors and the parking lot. Then she was grabbing my hair, pulling it over my eyes, and laughing maniacally. And she was pushing her brother in the aisles when he tried to reason with her.

We had a lot of serious talks during this little shopping expedition—and my son was being so good and trying to help me rein her in—but overall, it was just awful.

I called my mom again, and she said pretty much the same thing that she’d said to me after the hiking escapade.

“But it’s grocery shopping!” I exclaimed through gritted teeth.

“Yes, but it’s something you generally do just with her.”

And again, that was it. Suddenly, all of these “special” things that my toddler had thought of as hers were being taken away, being shared without her permission. And we all know how toddlers generally feel about sharing. But at the same time, she loved being with her brother, so this was all confusing.

I had to take a deep breath and remember that she wasn’t just being naughty. Well, she was, but not without a good reason. She was trying to communicate with me in the best way that she could—in her toddler way. I just wasn’t understanding what she was trying to tell me.

I don’t think there’s a big, magical answer to this right now and I know that she won’t feel this way forever, so I’ve just adjusted our plans with this in mind. We went to a wonderful nature center and playground—new to all of us—and to the pool, which is something we’re all used to doing together. And yep, there were those magical summer memories!

OK, so I’m going to have to get a little more creative this summer…and maybe pawn off the grocery shopping on my husband for the time being. Also, big brother will be in camp for a few weeks, starting today, so the toddler will have me all to herself—and she couldn’t be happier.

]]>http://momsanity.com/toddlers-why-being-naughty-isnt-naughty-at-all/feed/0Parenting Is Terrifyinghttp://momsanity.com/parenting-is-terrifying/
http://momsanity.com/parenting-is-terrifying/#respondThu, 07 Jun 2018 11:17:08 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2081From the moment you have a baby on board, you realize that you will most likely be terrified for the rest of your life. You worry about whether your baby will develop properly when he’s inside as well as out. You worry that you’re accidentally going to do something that will screw him up for [...]

From the moment you have a baby on board, you realize that you will most likely be terrified for the rest of your life. You worry about whether your baby will develop properly when he’s inside as well as out. You worry that you’re accidentally going to do something that will screw him up for life. You worry about providing for him and affording college someday. You worry that you’re going to die and miss everything. (Morbid but true.)

But that’s not what I’m going to talk about here.

I’m going to talk about all of the other ways that kids and kid-related things are terrifying.

Ever woken up in the middle of the night, only to find your child standing next to you…staring at you?

Ever had your child wake up screaming and when you go in to console him, he’s still screaming as he’s looking and pointing past you…ostensibly at the demon he sees behind your head that you can’t see?

Ever ask your child what she’s looking at and have her happily reply: “The monsters!”

Well, the other day, I had yet another delightful experience. It’s a little bit different than the above examples because my kids were peacefully sleeping when it happened, so they weren’t being creepy themselves…but still, it was kid-related and scary, as you’ll see shortly.

I was in the den like I am every night—laptop in hand (er, lap) and attempting to be productive after everyone else had gone to bed. I’d had a rocky start to my night because my daughter had gone to bed a little late. I worked for a while and then had a panicked thought: Had my husband done the really important errand that he was supposed to do earlier in the night? Nope, and he was in bed and not feeling well. He grumbled that he’d do it, but I grumbled right back that I’d do it instead, and unfortunately, it entailed a trip out of the house at midnight.

I got back around 12:30 and sat back down on the couch. Sigh. I was tired but wired after my little sojourn outside, so I convinced myself to squeeze in an extra 45 minutes of computer time since my brain was mostly still functioning.

That’s when I heard it: an electronic toy going off in the basement. Now, I know there’s a reasonable explanation for this. The batteries were dying, and the toy started to malfunction. It’s happened when I’m in the room, but it’s a lot creepier and more terrifying when I’m out of the room. It’s like one of those weird Poltergeist moments when a spirit possesses a toy. (And, yes, in case you were wondering that creepy clown scarred me for life.)

But then I heard a child laughing.

I had to be hallucinating, right? But then I heard it again. The toy, followed by the laugh. Or maybe it wasn’t a toy in the basement, after all. Maybe my toddler had gotten up and was playing with a toy in her room upstairs. The laugh had a displaced quality to it, and I was tired. That had to be it.

It happened again.

I went to the stairs and listened. Nothing. I waited some more. Still nothing. I walked upstairs and checked on both kids. Nope, they were sound asleep.

OK, that was…weird.

Maybe my husband had left the TV on downstairs? Maybe. I went back to my spot on the couch, and it was quiet. So it wasn’t the TV. I was probably imagining things, like when you have a newborn and hear phantom cries when you’re taking a very rare, much-needed shower. I shook my head, took a breath and started typing.

And then I heard it again. It was definitely a little girl’s laugh.

Different terrifying scenarios raced through my mind: Maybe burglars had broken in and they’d brought a kid with them, who was now amusing herself with my kids’ toys. Maybe I had a little ghost girl in my basement. Maybe I was truly finally losing my mind. But let’s be honest—at that moment, I was pretty sure it was a little ghost girl.

I knew one thing, though: There was no effing way I was going downstairs by myself to check out what was going on.

I ran upstairs and decided that while I didn’t want to wake my kids because this was likely the product of my sleep-deprived, overactive mind, I didn’t want to take any chances either. So I locked my son in his room, then proceeded to get the toddler and bring her in bed with me, since that’s where she ends up most nights anyway—and yep, locked my door, too. And eventually, I fell asleep. Eventually.

Well, this story didn’t end up where I thought it would. I started out talking about creepy kids, and then moved onto creepy ghost kids. Well, I guess the bottom line is that all kids are terrifying in their own unique ways, in this life or the next.

Just in case you were wondering: We all survived the night, and everything was back to normal in the morning. And since that night, I haven’t heard a peep out of the toys or the ghost child.

]]>http://momsanity.com/parenting-is-terrifying/feed/0What 30 Minutes Means to a Momhttp://momsanity.com/what-30-minutes-means-to-a-mom/
http://momsanity.com/what-30-minutes-means-to-a-mom/#respondFri, 25 May 2018 14:16:39 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2073Aside from my children, the most precious thing in my life is time. I never have enough of it, and no matter how hard I try and how creative I get, there are only 24 hours in a day. That is probably my most frustrating discovery of the last six years. I’m a night owl, [...]

Aside from my children, the most precious thing in my life is time. I never have enough of it, and no matter how hard I try and how creative I get, there are only 24 hours in a day. That is probably my most frustrating discovery of the last six years.

I’m a night owl, which is a blessing because I can get work done after the kids go to bed, but sometimes, despite my natural tendencies, the day gets to me and my eyes start to cross way too early. Or I just need the fresh perspective that only sleep will give me.

So lately, in addition to my late-night song and dance, I’ve been getting up around 45 minutes early each day. Everyone’s still sleeping, the house is quiet, and I can start checking things off of my never-ending to-do list. I am not a morning person—AT ALL—but this has been working surprisingly well and it’s been putting me in a great mood because I get to start the day on my own terms, not waking up in a cold sweat and frantically playing catch-up because I’m already running late.

So, the other day, I hadn’t gotten enough done at night because my eyes had been doing that crossing thing, and I was really looking forward to my bonus morning minutes. I got about 10 minutes into them when my husband came downstairs. He wasn’t supposed to be there, but, well, it was his house, too, and he was an adult who knew how to leave me alone while I was on my computer.

Then the clanking started.

He had decided to make coffee, and I don’t know if he was tired and clumsy or if it’s always like this and I just never really paid attention, but he was banging things loudly. And then he went to wash something in the sink, at which point something clanked again, this time against a metal colander and a pot or two that was still in it from last night.

Me, trying to hold it together: “Could you do that a little quieter?”

Grumbled assent. My patience snapped when he turned on the coffee grinder.

“You’re going to wake up the kids!” I seethed.

“They’re going to be up soon anyway.”

“Yeah, in 30 minutes.”

“Right, they’ll be up soon. What’s the difference?”

What’s the difference? What’s the difference?! The difference is 30 minutes—30 whole minutes! I had taken away 30 minutes of my sleep to get up to do work in the peace and quiet of an empty kitchen. And now all I heard was clanking…and the threat of my children needing me 30 minutes earlier than I could handle.

He looked at me blankly. Now this is not a stupid man, and in that moment, I realized this: He doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand what 30 minutes means to me—what 30 minutes means to a mom. I suppressed the flash of inevitable anger and jealousy and held my tongue, because starting the day off with an argument was less desirable than starting the day off with 30 minutes less to myself.

So, what does having an extra 30 minutes mean to a mom?

It means having the time to write part of this post.

It means making a dent in my freelance work.

It means sorting through pictures and ordering a few to hang on our still-bare walls.

It means folding the laundry that’s been sitting in the laundry basket for days and that I’ve kept adding to and is now in danger of spilling over the sides.

So that’s what 30 minutes means to me. And doing as many of those things as I can adds up to one very big thing: my sanity. That’s pretty much the crux of it, and I think that any mom on the planet would agree.

If I manage to get that precious time, I am absolutely not going to squander it. And I am certainly not going to cut it short by clanking around when everyone else is still sleeping. Because while I love hearing the pitter-patter of little feet in my house, I don’t want to hear them too early.

]]>http://momsanity.com/what-30-minutes-means-to-a-mom/feed/0The Question Every Mother Asks Herselfhttp://momsanity.com/the-question-every-mother-asks-herself/
http://momsanity.com/the-question-every-mother-asks-herself/#respondSun, 13 May 2018 03:06:59 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2067Am I a good enough mother? There it is. Six little words that we all ask ourselves nearly every day—sometimes multiple times a day while crying in the bathroom and stuffing our faces with the hidden candy bars. Even the most confident moms can feel broken by motherhood sometimes. I don’t know about you, but [...]

We all try so hard, day in and day out, and there’s no real way to measure our success as moms. Oh, sure, we can look at our kids and see that they’re fed and clothed and still alive, and yes, that’s something. They’re also happy…or so we hope.

We hope that our parenting choices aren’t accidentally screwing them up for life. We hope that they know how much we love them. We hope that we’re able to provide for them. We hope that we aren’t yelling too much. We hope that we’re making their childhoods magical and don’t appear as exhausted and spread thin as we really are.

It’s a lot of worry, and it’s certainly not helping us. And when we really consider that question about whether we’re good enough mothers, when we’ve slept and we’ve had a moment to ourselves without a child literally crawling on our heads, I think we know the answer to it.

]]>http://momsanity.com/the-question-every-mother-asks-herself/feed/0The Magic That Happens When We’re Not Aroundhttp://momsanity.com/the-magic-that-happens-when-were-not-around/
http://momsanity.com/the-magic-that-happens-when-were-not-around/#respondSat, 28 Apr 2018 02:28:07 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2059Motherhood can be magical when it’s not making us completely insane. We get to experience the sweetest moments that make us remember just how worthwhile it is: the world’s best snuggles, the gooey toddler kisses, that spark when our little one understands something new, those shared confidences in the dark before bedtime, the belief that [...]

Motherhood can be magical when it’s not making us completely insane. We get to experience the sweetest moments that make us remember just how worthwhile it is: the world’s best snuggles, the gooey toddler kisses, that spark when our little one understands something new, those shared confidences in the dark before bedtime, the belief that Mommy can fix anything.

But there’s another kind of magic at play when you’re a mom, and it’s even more fleeting and delicate. What is it? Witnessing the magical moments that happen for our children that we’re not part of. That is a whole different kind of gift.

Sometimes we’re too frazzled to notice these moments when they’re happening. Sometimes we’re being pulled in multiple directions—sometimes literally by multiple kids. And sometimes we’re hovering a little too much, either because we’re worried our kids will get hurt or because we think we’re being better parents when we’re right there with them all the time, experiencing everything with them. Of course we want to be involved and that’s important, but knowing when to take a strategic step back is important, too.

Well, last weekend, all the stars miraculously aligned in my little world.

I was at my son’s second-ever T-ball game, and the field happened to be right next to a playground. That made things perfect for attending the game with a toddler, who needed the distraction so she didn’t run straight to centerfield to try to catch a fly ball. She’s a tough, independent, little cookie, and she happily amused herself on slides and assorted playground equipment meant for kids at least five years older than her.

I started talking to one of the other moms, and we introduced our little ones. Her son was 3 and a half, exactly a year older than my daughter, and they instantly took to each other. They played near us at first, and then they meandered off together, toward the big evergreens in the not-too-distant distance.

Eventually the other mom went back to her mat to tend to her other little one and watch the game from there, and I stayed situated in this strangely perfect spot. I was at the edge of the playground, probably 20 feet from the baseball field and 20 feet from the trees, so I could alternate between watching both sets of kids.

Now, I’m a big fan of letting kids explore on their own, but generally speaking, I probably would have been shadowing my toddler a little closer. Not necessarily because I’d feel the need to be right there, even though she is a total daredevil, but because she’d want me with her. Before she met her new friend, she had wanted me to run off to the swings with her, but I told her I could only do so for a few minutes because I also wanted to watch her brother’s game.

So, there she was, with a little more independence than she normally would have had, and that’s when the magic happened.

It was like I was watching a scene inside a snow globe, filled with invisible fairy dust that made everything perfect and magical and a little surreal.

She and her little buddy were involved in some very serious conversation, and then they apparently decided to start their very important job. There were dozens of pinecones on the ground, and they made it their afternoon mission to pick every single one of them up and gather them under a tree. When they took periodic breaks from this activity, they chased each other around the trees, held hands and explored the area together.

My daughter, in her pink-bottomed tutu dress and with her wildly curly hair bouncing in a ponytail on top of head, lit up in an entirely different way. She wasn’t my unruly toddler or her brother’s sometimes-annoying little sister. She was her own person, and she was free to do whatever she wanted. The veil of restraint had been lifted (or, at least, she thought it had.) The way she smiled and laughed and navigated this new relationship with confidence and outright joy—it was certainly something to see.

Part of me desperately wanted to go over to them and hear what they were saying to each other and to capture the sweetness on my iPhone, but I resisted the impulse. It all felt too fragile, and I didn’t want to ruin it.

It was like I was watching a scene inside a snow globe, filled with invisible fairy dust that made everything perfect and magical and a little surreal. They were in their own little world, and it was perfect. Eventually, they were joined by another friend, and it got even cuter.

I have to admit, I stopped watching my son’s game for longer than I probably should have. And I probably looked like a complete weirdo as I stood there, in the middle of nowhere, staring off into the distance with a goofy smile on my face.

For these two kids, this magical little scene was just kiddie business as usual. Making new friends and playing like this is a normal part of childhood, and neither of them will probably have any memory of it. But I certainly will.

]]>http://momsanity.com/the-magic-that-happens-when-were-not-around/feed/0Why Toddlers Are the Smartest People on the Planethttp://momsanity.com/why-toddlers-are-the-smartest-people-on-the-planet/
http://momsanity.com/why-toddlers-are-the-smartest-people-on-the-planet/#respondFri, 13 Apr 2018 03:43:36 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2053Their manners may be lacking. They may think dog food is a tasty snack. And they may not know how to wipe their own butts. But toddlers know a thing or two about the way the world works. OK, they don’t, but they get by pretty darn well with a combination of instinct and [...]

Their manners may be lacking. They may think dog food is a tasty snack. And they may not know how to wipe their own butts. But toddlers know a thing or two about the way the world works.

OK, they don’t, but they get by pretty darn well with a combination of instinct and brute force. You’ve gotta admit: It works for them.

It works so well, in fact, that I’ve realized I could learn a thing or two from my wild child and her kind. I mean, yes, it would be lovely to be catered to and slightly feared, but there’s more to it than that.

Here’s what I’ve been learning from my 2-year-old, and why I really hope I can hold onto these lessons she’s been inadvertently teaching me as she stomps her feet and says no to nine out of every 10 requests.

Toddlers have no fear. Not that I particularly want my toddler doing an Olympics-style dismount from the kitchen counter or dangling precariously from the part of the playground equipment you’re really not supposed to dangle precariously from, but you’ve got to admire that sort of bravery. I used to be a daredevil—jumping down my parents’ stairs all the way from the top (not so bright) and going on rollercoasters that would make my dad turn green (fun!), but somewhere along the way, I got scared. As adults, we may argue that it’s smart to be scared sometimes, and of course it is, but fear is a tricky thing. Once you’ve got it, it can spread into everything like an infection, and if you’re not careful, it can really hurt you. I know that it’s limited me in ways that I’m trying to rectify on a daily basis (when I’m not too tired to remember).

Toddlers throw themselves into hugs. Have you ever been hugged by a toddler? If not, brace yourself. No, seriously, hold onto something so you don’t get knocked over. They hug you with their whole bodies, their whole beings, their whole souls and their whole strength. It is impossible not to smile when you’re on the receiving end of one of these. It’s also a pretty amazing lesson about committing to something and letting yourself fully experience it.

Toddlers try so damn hard all the time. They desperately want to communicate. They do their absolute best to complete tasks, even if their motor skills aren’t quite there yet. They want to be taken seriously and treated like a big kid. They might not succeed fully, but it’s the trying and the ability to stick to it that’s impressive.

Toddlers make their voices heard. Toddlers are loud, yes, but I mean this more in the figurative sense. Because of the way that society treats and culturally conditions women, we’re often afraid to breathe, let alone express our pesky opinions with a full, unapologetic voice. Toddlers haven’t yet been tainted by these negative things—and God, I hope they never are—so they make their opinions known. They are toddlers, hear them roar!

Toddlers prefer blueberries to chocolate cake. OK, this is not the case all the time, and toddlers are notoriously bad eaters. Most parents would trade a bucketful of diamonds to get their little ones to eat a regular, nutritious dinner every night without a fight. I was certainly in that boat with my firstborn. But I truly believe—when I’m not ready to pull my hair out—that kids will eat what they need, when they need it. Meaning that if their bodies require a certain nutrient, they will start craving it. It won’t make us worry any less, but I’m convinced it happens.

Toddlers make sure they’re never left out. My 2-year-old will literally climb between her brother and I to make sure she’s included. And she’s taken to saying, “Mommy, please don’t leave me out.” As if I ever would! Maybe this is more of a second-child worry, but still, toddlers want to be with you all the time, and you will suffer their wrath if you dare take a step out of the room without them.

Toddlers know how to read people. When that creepy lady at the grocery store is going in for a coochie-coo, a toddler doesn’t pretend to be OK with it. She’ll retreat behind her mom’s legs, nuzzle into her shoulder or do something so embarrassing that you’ll never want to step foot in that grocery store again. But you know what? Good for her. Because first of all, that lady is out of line. And second of all, self-preservation and street smarts are a good thing.

Toddlers know how to say “no.” That “no” may drive us completely batty sometimes, but remember: Having boundaries is a good thing—a really good thing. Every time they say that two-letter word, they’re figuring out their place in the world, learning just how much control they have over themselves and the people around them, and what’s acceptable and what’s not. (For some more insight on this, check out this article that I wrote for Today’s Parent.) So many adults are afraid to say no, and we end up saying yes to things we really shouldn’t have.

Toddlers don’t hold a grudge. Their tempers may flare wildly and ignite at the most ridiculous things. Tears and tantrums may follow, but they can dissipate as quickly as they came on with Mommy hugs, a well-timed distraction, or just a little time to cry it out. Yes, they may seem unbalanced in the moment, but it’s a type of resiliency that doesn’t hold them back and doesn’t drain their energy.

Toddlers don’t take any crap. Clever parenting tactics be damned. They know when you’re trying to pull one over on them, and they won’t be amused—or they’ll be so amused that they’ll take off their clothes, pull off their diaper, run through the house completely naked, laughing and screaming until you’re laughing and screaming, too.

]]>http://momsanity.com/why-toddlers-are-the-smartest-people-on-the-planet/feed/0St. Patrick’s Day Fun: Learning with Your Little Leprechaunshttp://momsanity.com/st-patricks-day-fun-learning-with-your-little-leprechauns/
http://momsanity.com/st-patricks-day-fun-learning-with-your-little-leprechauns/#commentsTue, 13 Mar 2018 13:07:04 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2035St. Patrick’s Day used to look a lot different than it does today. Well, not for everyone. Of course, there’s still the green beer, the pub crawls, the new best friends you sing along with till the wee hours of the night and the embarrassing stories you won’t tell your grandchildren someday. That’s just not [...]

St. Patrick’s Day used to look a lot different than it does today. Well, not for everyone. Of course, there’s still the green beer, the pub crawls, the new best friends you sing along with till the wee hours of the night and the embarrassing stories you won’t tell your grandchildren someday.

That’s just not what my St. Patrick’s Day looks like anymore now that I’m a mom of two.

Well, there may still be green beer after the kiddos go to bed, but these days, my St. Patrick’s Day tends to be a lot more wholesome. It involves making Irish soda bread for my son’s kindergarten class, decking out my toddler in a shamrock-adorned outfit (if she’ll let me), crafting intricate leprechaun traps out of tissue boxes and construction paper, and kissing my kids every chance I get because they’re half Irish and, well, just because.

It’s definitely an upgrade, if you ask me, especially from the raging hangover and inevitable regret.

But aside from that and the kiddie cuteness, I particularly love St. Patrick’s Day and other low-pressure holidays because they provide the perfect excuse for a dose of learning to double as holiday fun. Here’s a cute idea to get your kids in the spirit of the season: an exclusive-to-Momsanity word search from Education.com, my go-to site for educational fun. This activity is primarily geared toward second graders, but my kindergartener also tried and enjoyed this brain teaser.

So, pose this challenge to your little learners: Are you lucky enough to find the words in this St. Patrick’s Day word search? Kids can practice spelling with this worksheet from Education.com, and you can check out more educational resources here!

]]>http://momsanity.com/st-patricks-day-fun-learning-with-your-little-leprechauns/feed/1Reminder: Moms Are People, Too!http://momsanity.com/reminder-moms-people/
http://momsanity.com/reminder-moms-people/#respondFri, 09 Feb 2018 05:12:20 +0000http://momsanity.com/?p=2024I am a mom. I am also a person, and I matter. I cannot believe that I have to write those words, but I do—and to myself. Yes, you read that right: I have to remind myself that I am an actual person who has her own needs and wants. And those needs and wants [...]

I cannot believe that I have to write those words, but I do—and to myself. Yes, you read that right: I have to remind myself that I am an actual person who has her own needs and wants. And those needs and wants are separate from my children’s and my husband’s, and they are perfectly OK to have.

I only realized the ridiculousness of this about two weeks ago. It was a Friday night, and I’d realized that we hadn’t had a family dinner all week. It had been just me and the kids, and I was pretty much picking at their leftover food like a half-starved squirrel.

I was in the middle of chopping vegetables when there was a knock at my kitchen door and a face smiling at me and waving at me from behind the glass. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

It was an old friend of my husband’s, just popping by. (Yep, just popping by without a text or phone call.) Of course, since it was Friday at 5:15, my house looked like a tornado had ripped through it, and my unfed children were watching Power Rangers. I’m sure that I was looking like Mother of the Year right about then, but hey, at least I still had my bra on, so I’ll count it as a win.

Anyway…he was there to say hi and to whisk my husband off for drinks with another friend.

Sigh. There went our family dinner.

I looked down at the carrots on the chopping board. I could pack them up and make this tomorrow. I didn’t want to waste the time making it, since we all know how precious “free” time is, or waste the recipe since no one would be eating it except me. It’s a variation of that old riddle: If you make a nice dinner and no one eats it but you, did you really make it at all? It just didn’t seem worth it. I could make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or just an apple with peanut butter.

Wait. What, now?

Yep, that was it. The moment of revelation. I didn’t want to take the time or expend the energy to do something nice for myself. Actually, scratch that: This wasn’t even doing something nice for myself. This was taking care of myself. And eating. You know that thing that people need to do to be healthy and stay alive and all that? Yeah, that.

I’m basically saying that I don’t count, that I don’t matter enough to do something basic like cook myself a decent meal. I would do it in a heartbeat for my husband or a friend or my kids, mind you, but for myself? Why bother.

I’ve thought in this warped way for a while now, and who knows—maybe I’ve always thought this way. Maybe it’s one of those weird woman things that’s socially ingrained in us at a disturbingly early age. But here’s how it goes: If I don’t have someone else to cook for, why should I go out of the way for myself? I’m tired, yes, but it’s more than that. I’m basically saying that I don’t count, that I don’t matter enough to do something basic like cook myself a decent meal.

I would do it in a heartbeat for my husband or a friend or my kids, mind you, but for myself? Why bother.